


Like or Like Like

by Lexigraph



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Polyamory, Pre-Relationship, Slightly Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, it's a journey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29079621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexigraph/pseuds/Lexigraph
Summary: V and Jackie are a little drunk and a little on the verge of something... maybe.
Relationships: Female V/Jackie Welles, Misty Olszewski/Jackie Welles
Comments: 21
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not really anything to warn of unless you are very sensitive to the idea of vomit. Fic Title is from the Miniature Tigers song, which is both goofy and earnest, which feels like it fits.

It’s late, way too late to be stumbling back to Mama Welles’s as tipsy--alright, as utterly drunk-- as they are. In some ways, V finds the prospective fallout comforting, an echo of her life with the clan, where no matter your age, someone was ready to lend you an entire earful for acting the fool. At least that much is the same in the City.

But Jackie, well, his shoulders are already hunching in as he squints, bleary eyed, at his phone, a grimace marring his usually jovial features and moaning about the time. V leans up against the wall of the alley, head tracking Jackie’s path as he begins to pace. There’s a slight sway to his steps, as if he’s on a boat, but a nervous energy too. The combination sets V’s head to spinning, and she screws her eyes closed, slows her breathing. The back-alley smell of trash and stale humanity seems to intensify all at once,and she considers for a moment that perhaps being dizzy is a better alternative after all.

“Shit, Jackie…” V presses her palms against the wall behind her, grounding herself with the feel of the pitted concrete, the solid  _ hereness _ of the building, and chances opening her eyes again. “S’not anywhere else we can crash? Closer, maybe?”

Jackie gazes upward, lips pressing together, then down at his feet, still pacing. “Nah. ‘Sides, dunno what’s worse-- the lecture for coming home drunk at 4am or--”

“The one you get for not coming home at all. I get it.” She laughs soft and low at a sort of composite memory of her father, lets herself remember the way his eyebrows would bunch together and his jaw would set. When the memory starts to sour, she pushes it back, forcefully, with a shake of her head.  _ Not now. _

The next time Jackie’s back and forth brings him close enough, V kicks out a foot gently to nudge Jackie in the calf, losing her footing and slipping a little down the wall, in the process “..is she gonna be up still, ya think?”

Jackie stops pacing, raises his head to look at V, and his grimace slides into a half-cocked smile, “Knowing her, she’s not gonna sleep til she knows we’re back.” He sighs, “That settles it. We better get goin, ey  _ chica _ ?”

As usual, that word, chica, turns over and over in her head, playing back the way it feels rolling out of Jackie’s mouth. He’d been calling her that since they met, used it indiscriminately with folks, but lately it sounded… different? Well, maybe that was the tequila talking. With a grin, V pushes off the wall to stand next to Jackie, only wobbling on her feet a little. “Alright. Walkin’ or cab?” They don’t have far to go, for sure, but a few blocks in the middle of the night (or, more accurately, the small hours of the morning) was never the best idea. Not in Night City, and definitely not in Heywood, and not when stumbling drunk. 

Jackie considers this a moment, his smile goes a bit lopsided, apologetic. “Ah, well... Think we mighta liquified most of our assets. ‘sides, uh... hang on, think I might puke.” The mere act of admitting it seems to be the last straw-- V leaps further back from the building just in time for Jackie to double over against it.

The sound of tonight’s earnings hitting the pavement echoes down the alley. V crouches and reaches out automatically to rub Jackie’s back, her eyes averted from the splatter and mouth pressed tight closed, breath held. It’s almost enough to block out the smell. Almost. She swallows, concentrating anywhere else.

“Euuugh. Sorry V,” he coughs one last time, spits something up, and wipes his face. There’s a longer pause. “Thanks.”

“Get it all out?”

“Yeah, more or less. Fuck me, what a waste. You uh, got a mint or somethin’?”

V drops her hands from his back after one last pat and straightens up. “No worries. Let’s just get home.” She tries to arrange her face into a comforting smile as he turns around, to hide the wrinkled nose of disgust she’s sporting, but something about the look in Jackie’s eyes when he looks at her stops the smile halfway, making her look a bit ill herself. His eyes are bright, and far too piercing considering his cheeks are still rosy from drink.

V cocks her head, eyebrows knitting into questions that swirl around half-formed in her head, refusing to solidify into something concrete. She holds out her hand as an offer to help Jackie up, which brings a smile back to both their faces. Perhaps normally V could do so--she is deceptively strong considering her frame. But, augments or no, she’s also rocking back on her heels, not precisely firm to the ground. 

Instead, Jackie wipes his hands on the knees of his pants and pushes up out of his crouch. V pats herself down, and then fishes a brightly colored plastic container out of her jean vest, and shakes a handful of bright blue orbs from the package. She pops one and presses the others into Jackie’s hands. 

A flood of vaguely raspberry heavily minty flavor hits her mouth as the candy starts to dissolve. From Jackie’s expression, he hates it, but may be too polite to complain out right. V shrugs, a little, says “Sorry, s’what I have,” around the dissolving mint. 

He shakes his head, and the pair sets off in a new silence, stumbling gently forward. After they’ve gone about a block, a breeze picks up-- not too chill, even in late March-- but welcome regardless. 

The breeze follows them through many Haywood streets, until they reach a crosswalk which is broadcasting out “Don’t Walk” in steady rhythm, heedless of the hour. Jackie reaches out an arm ahead of V almost automatically--she has perhaps developed a habit of blundering on ahead anyway, just skirting the passing vehicles-- and she stops short and rolls her eyes, smiling, at him.

Taking advantage of the pause, V tilts her head back to enjoy the wind caressing her neck, and breathes deep. Somewhere, tucked away in the breeze is the smell of the ocean, and-- more to V’s liking-- the hot dust of the desert, as if the wind took a detour around the outskirts of the city before finding her, a gust of relief from the normal stench of Night City. Out of the corner of her eyes, V catches Jackie watching, and doesn’t try very hard to suppress a smirk.

“Hey, V?”

“Yeah Jack?”

“You really think of it as home?” Jackie’s voice is quiet, the line of his eyebrows and mouth in parallel, a look of seriousness trying to break through the tequila-fog.

V shifts her gaze to him fully, lips parting in a brief smile, “Yeah, a’course. Guadalupe-- Ah, Mama Welles -- well, both of you, you really make me feel welcome. Didn’t think I’d ever find that here, much less right away… Why, shouldn’t I?”

“Ah we-- oh c’mon!.” The crosswalk speaker echoes “Walk” out into the pre-dawn gloom. Jackie ushers V forward, not quite touching her. She twirls around to keep hitting him with a pointed look: eyebrows raised and mouth pressed into a mock-frown. Crossing backwards and with far too much confidence, head and ponytail bobbing along, V holds his gaze and tries to keep back a grin. Jackie sighs, but cheerfully, likely knowing he's not getting out of the answer so easy, “I’m glad you do. That’s all.  _ Shit. _ I am  _ hammered _ . Sorry.” A nervous, self-conscious laugh punctuates the sentence.

Having crossed the street, V pauses under a streetlamp, studying Jackie’s face with her lips gently pursed, thoughtful. His cheeks are still a little red and his smile is small, sheepish. The smile folds itself inward when V doesn’t immediately move or reply, and he looks away. “Ah, V?”

Instead of answering, she crosses her arms and leans back against a small concrete barrier, lets the moment drag out a little longer than necessary, “You can talk to me like this, y’know.”

“What, drunk?”

“No! I mean, yes. Obviously. M’not exactly in a place to judge on that count." Her voice lowers and V shakes her head, holds up a hand, “But I mean, with feelings. Without bein’ embarrassed. We’re chooms, right?” She’s speaking too deliberately, voice and expression adamant and earnest. If she were sober, she’d have the sense to be a little embarrassed about it. But she’s not, so she doesn’t.

“A’course we are,  _ chica _ . I’m just--” his grin goes small again, but softer, and Jackie moves into the light of the streetlamp as well. “I’m not used to it, least not with--” he clears his throat, “You… are a very straightforward person.”

“I am.”

“An' I like that about you.” 

This hangs in the air around them both for a moment, until V shakes her head and smiles a full on nose-crinkling smile. Her voice is bright, but rough, shying back into the lilt of sarcasm it often carries, “Aww, Jackie! Don’t tell me you  _ care _ about me.”

It is his turn to look serious, “I mean it. ‘ppreciate it, too. Not too many people like you. Not here, not anywhere I’ve heard of.”

V feels her face start to heat up, and she drops her arms and straightens her posture hips first, rolling up and away from the barrier. The space between them suddenly seems both impenetrable and insubstantial, an ephemeral blockade, but V takes a half-step closer to Jackie, pressing through it. Jackie tilts his head down so they are making direct eye contact, his lips parted and breathing steady. Neither moves.

Then, Jackie clears his throat, “Yeah, I think it’s time I made some introductions.” There’s something about how he says it, a rough hopefulness in his tone, that makes V want to take that next half-step forward and leaves her rooted to the spot. The latter wins.

“O-oh. Sure. Awesome!” V presses down a sense of disappointment and schools her voice back down to it’s normal pitch. “Another fixer or … friends?”

As they talk, the two turn and resume their trek through Heywood. 

Jackie walks with his arms crossed, but his voice stays light enough, “No--Well, actually yah, I got a job from Padre, you come along we’ll take care of it, easy, and then I can make introductions. Probably som’a my ol’ chooms. Y’know, I’d’ve introduced you before but I didn’t really think they’d be your style.”

“Oh, your  _ old _ crew.” V knows Jackie used to be in a gang, but can’t reconcile the man in front of her with the ideas she’s always had about gang members in a city. Sure, he’s good with his gun, but so is she. He’s also hilarious, generous, curious, respectful -- V cuts herself off of this line of thought with a mental eye roll.  _ Don’t get all mushy just cause you’re drunk, V. _

Somewhere through the streets, a car alarm blares out a security warning. They listen for some response -- gunshots, shouting, something. Nothing breaks through the sound of the alarm, except more traffic, the omnipresent soundtrack of city life, even as the night trips it’s way toward morning.

“...Yeah. But they’re still good guys.”

“I… I know, Jackie. Sorry,” V frowns at her toes, breathes out, and then turns a smile at him, “If you love ‘em, of course they’re good. _ ”  _ A few more blocks pass after this in a strange silence, before she continues: “Not sure what introducing me to someone has to do with uh… what you said, before?” V wants to take the question back even as she’s asking it, but tequila has a way of overriding tact.

They’re rounding the corner, almost to the house. Jackie shrugs, “I just gotta… there’s conversations need havin’, but not now. Too drunk. Tired, all of a sudden… But hey, don’t worry V. It’s gonna be good.” He grins and raises his eyebrows once for emphasis. The squashed disappointment perks up its head somewhere in the region of her stomach.

“Thanks. Very clear, I feel very enlightened!” V keeps her tone light, teasing, but there’s just enough sarcasm that leaks through that she follows up with, “We’ll talk tomorrow...?”

Jackie smiles again, bigger, and this time V lets the expression wash over her before reflecting it. Then, both of their faces fall as they come to dual realizations: their feet have carried them all the way back, and there is a light on in the front window.

Jackie exposes his wrist to the door knob to unlock it, voice dropped to a bare hiss, “Tomorrow V. Now we just gotta get --”

“Gotta get what, Jackie? A new place to stay if you want to be out until nearly dawn? A new mother to care for you when this one drops dead of worry?” Mama Welles has flung open the door, and gestures widely for them to come in, peering past her son and down the street, where a few folks linger. “Come on. Get inside before someone decides 4am is a good time to meet my shotgun.”

Jackie spares one final look of chagrin over his shoulder at V as they enter the house, all but slinking past Mama Welles. The smell of coffee and toast fills V’s nostrils as a veritable barrage of worried admonishment pours forth from Mama Welles. V suppresses a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I solemnly swear there will be no cheating!!
> 
> [Edited the timeline a bit, added some more friendliness]


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V tries to get some sleep.

By the time V makes it to bed, the sun is slanting in pale yellow through the old aluminum blinds hanging in Jackie’s old room. She runs a hand down them, listening to the sharp rustle of the slats and feeling each one against her fingertips. This doesn’t do much for the sunlight, but V is suddenly too sleepy -- even after the semi-sobering cup of coffee-- to care overmuch. 

Her attention turns toward the bed, and utters a soft, plaintive groan as she contemplates all the steps left in order to get to sleep comfortably. For a moment, she considers just collapsing, fully clothed, to catch an hour or so of rest. She’s no stranger to that kind of sleep and the sour-milk sort of feeling it leaves behind, and doesn’t relish the idea of going in to the next night with it.

So, V removes her shoes by kicking them off, pushing the backs down with the toes of the opposite foot to loosen them without undoing any laces. A mental facsimile of Jackie scolds her, chiding that she’ll ruin the heels like that, a sentiment she has already heard several times in reality. But life-long habits are harder to kick off than new sneakers.

Shrugging off her jacket now, V sticks her tongue out playfully toward the floor, in the direction of the living room and the couch the real Jackie’s almost certainly already passed out on. V begins undoing the buckle on her belt and pulling off her pants, running through a mental argument about how it doesn’t matter because she’s going to ruin the shoes some other way anyway in short order.

This room is saturated in the concept of Jackie, covered in the memorabilia of his life, and it’s all too easy to conjure a make-believe version of him. V finds herself stifling the faux-argument, sashaying her hips and wriggling out of her pants with a coy smile, imaging him sitting on the bed and waiting for her. She reaches up and under her shirt without removing it to slide off her bra, one strap at a time. But once she’s standing, just in her shirt and underpants, looking at nobody, all V can do is laugh, low in her throat, and shake her head.

_ What has gotten into me? A coupla long looks and suddenly I’m daydreaming about how to strip for him? _ V practically falls into the bed and snuggles down into the groove Jackie must have left in the mattress so long ago. The thought of his body in this bed crowds out the self-admonishment, and she breathes out, slowly, shaky, into the pillow.

Without conscious intent, V breathes deeply back in. The bed smells mostly like Mama Welle’s favoured detergent brand, but if she concentrates, V can almost smell a hint of the heady, pleasantly human smell that signifies Jackie Welles. The smell of soap, of sweat, sometimes of incense… In this moment, contemplating how Jackie smells makes her feel a little dizzy and warm. Hot, even, radiating out from her center. The feeling comes to her with a flash of the base of Jackie’s neck, the lines his cyberware trace into his body… the intense look in his green eyes as they stood out on the street. 

“Oh, fuck me,” she whispers into the bedclothes. It had been over a year since the last time she wanted someone like this, the curious combination of innocent longing and wicked desire. That had spiraled out of control, of course. After all, fucking your work partners had a way of going more bad than good. It’s no use, now, trying to tell herself that. Even the implication that she wants to fuck Jackie, and therefore the idea of doing so, sends electricity down her body.

V lets out another shaky breath, and then closes her eyes, slows her breathing. A mind wandering too much for its own good and a surging feeling of desire are not proving particularly conducive to sleep. The rest of her body so desperately wants to succumb to slumber, her limbs heavy, her eyes aching. For a moment, V thinks only of timing her breathing, listening to the sounds of the city waking up outside the window. It’s not soothing per se -- nothing like the wind whistling against the sides of a tent or through a cracked window -- but the sound still serves well as a distraction.

In the absence of a daydream, her thoughts grow somber:  _ What conversations? Why’s he look at me like that when I’m pretty sure he’s got an output? How can I not know whether she’s his output? Do I know her name? Did he tell me and I didn’t listen?  _ Her mind turns the questions over, and an idle finger traces the wall of the bed’s alcove. There’s a sticker, half peeled away, a relic of Jackie’s younger days. It’s the end of some word, and her eyes begin to droop closed. She’s asleep before she’s finished a single letter, face pulled into a gentle, contemplative frown.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V and Jackie take the train.

“Ey, are you up gonna stay up here all day or wh-!" There is an exclamation, and V’s eyes open to the sight of Jackie hurriedly backing into the hallway, pulling the door shut. “Sorry V! Sorry!”

“Ehwhaa?” is her very intelligent reply, rolling out and up from the bed. “Jackie? What’s the ma… tter.” V looks down at her outfit. Panties and a t-shirt that suddenly seems very thin. “Oh.” Well, this isn’t how she would have decided to make introductions between her body and Jackie’s eyes, but so be it. She waves a hand dismissively, both at the strange thought and the door, as if he can see her through it.

“Don’t ah… don’t worry about it! One sec!” V stumbles around the room scooping up clothes and changing as quickly as possible. She pauses just long enough to splash her face in the sink and reapply a layer of the lipstick she’d been favoring lately--extremely gaudy, metallic gold.  _ Probably not strictly necessary for _ \-- she swipes at her phone to check the time --  _ 6 pm. Fuck I haven’t slept for 12 hours _ , have  _ I? _

Once she’s finally dressed, V slides open the door to see Jackie’s back, shoulders up, neck and ears burning red. “Sorry,” he mutters again.

V chuckles and leans up against the doorway. “S’no big deal. Nothing worth getting so worked up over.”

There’s another mutter from Jackie, something in Spanish about agreeing to disagree, which V picks up enough of that she coughs in surprise. Jackie breathes out and rolls his shoulders back and turns toward her, slowly, as if afraid she might not have gotten dressed after all. She did choose something with a slightly higher neckline than usual, though nothing she owned could really be classified as “high necked”. Not since the first part of her chest tattoos, anyway, and that was years back.

“Did you…”  _ need me? _ “want somethin’?” V finds that looking right at Jackie makes it difficult to school her thoughts, and so looks slightly past him, at the decorations lining the hall. Plenty of pictures of the Welles family, and some of religious iconography. Saints and the Virgin Mary, lots of reds and golds and blues. V doesn’t know what most of it is but finds it beautiful to look at it, and more distracting from her one-track mind than the pictures of Jackie in his youth.

“Uh, Ma’s got some dinner out and I’ve got that gig if you wanted to come --eh, tell you about it after?” Jackie’s eyes flicker toward the stairs, and V hears the sound of Mama Welles banging around in the kitchen. The smell of cumin and chili hits her nose alongside the sharp smell of onions and peppers, and it sets her stomach to rumbling.

“Yeah, sure,” V smiles at him, although he isn’t looking at her either, it seems, and then slides past Jackie into the hallway, their bodies almost but not quite touching. “Mama Welles!” she calls down the stairs, just missing the sound of Jackie inhaling sharply. “That smells a-maz-ing! ” 

She bounds forward, but stops short at the top of the stairs to look over her shoulder at Jackie when he doesn’t move. He is still, as if frozen in place in her--his?-- doorway, a faraway look on his face. “Jack?”

“Yeah? Oh. Yeah. Dinner,” he nods and turns to follow along, rubbing the top of his chest idly as if waking from a dream. He gestures her forward, as if it was V waking him up for food, and not the other way around.

The strange mood follows them down the stairs, Jackie lagging slightly more than usual, but seems to evaporate in the presence of Guadalupe.

“What was that you yelled V? I couldn’t hear so good with the kitchen going.” Mama Welles is just walking in from the kitchen, laden with plates, and V leaps forward to help, ignoring her half-hearted protests.

“I said, it smells amazing,” V gestures her head at Jackie to tell him to sit down, then slides in after him and sets down the plates in one practiced movement. “Looks just as good as it smells, too.”

“Ah, thank you V, you’re so polite! It’s not much, I know, but at least I know you’re both eating something besides vending machine trash sometimes.” Guadalupe lowers herself deliberately into the easy chair at the end of the coffee table they share meals around.

“Not much ? I dunno what kind of feasts you think I grew up on Mama Welles, but this is a bounty.” V pauses, then folds her hands together and waits.

The first dinner she had with the Welles, grace had surprised her. There were many religions among the Nomads, of course, but dinner time was a noisy, wild affair, and there was no pausing between the call for dinner and the eating of it. That is, not unless there was some big news to tell, but usually everyone knew big news well before dinner and wanted to get to the business of discussing it.

Jackie recites grace in melodical Spanish, his face respectfully somber. As with most Spanish, V understands a portion of it, but mostly she just loves to listen to the rolling sound of the words coming out of his mouth. She echoes “Amen” and a grin cuts across Jackie’s features, like a switch being flipped from devout to devourer. He lifts his plate in one hand and leans back into the couch. “V’s right Ma’. Your cooking’s the best in Night City. Should let me help though; you’ve got enough to do with the Coyote without cookin’ us dinner too.”

Tonight is shredded soy-beef and peppers over rice, stained yellow with a spice V can’t quite place the flavor of but also cannot get enough of. She stoops as she eats, a contrast to Jackie’s laid-back posture, then stops, sets down her fork, feeling embarrassed: “I can help t--”

“That’s sweet, V, but you are not allowed back in my kitchen,” Guadalupe says this kindly, shaking a fork in V’s direction and ignoring her son’s offer (again). “I fear for my appliances. I do not think you can afford to replace them all, even one by one.”

Jackie laughs between bites and V blushes, but smiles wide. “I promised not to follow any more vids you hadn’t seen.”

“You melted the microwave mija . No, no. I will cook, you repay me by coming home before the sunrise from now on, ok?” She smiles to soften this, but the worry is evident in her eyes “And no bullet wounds or stitches, either.”

“Ma,” Jackie groans and leans forward, setting his plate on the coffee table with slightly too much energy. “You don’t gotta worry so much. We’ve got each other’s backs, won’t let anything happen!” If he means it to sound reassuring, Jackie misses the mark; his tone is sharp, annoyed. Even though it has only been a little over a month since V came to stay, and the infrequency of family dinner, this is a conversation V has witnessed more than once.

This time, V butts in, her tone purposefully light, but earnest. “I can’t make promises 'bout the hour, but I can promise I’ll always get your boy back to you in one piece. What kind of house guest would I be otherwise?”

Guadalupe’s face, which had been skewing up into a frown, relaxes, “V, you’re not a house guest. This is your home for as long as you need, you know that.”

V swallows, suddenly shy, and has to look down at her hands. “I… yeah, I do.” She looks up, trying to smile and sound nonchalant. “I appreciate it, I do.”

“Okay!” Jackie’s voice is just a little too loud. “Thank you for dinner Ma, but we have business. You done, V?” He looks at V, expression guarded. The fight might not have happened out loud, but it still lingered. A life-long struggle between a mother and her son’s drive to succeed.

“Guess so. Delicious as always, Mama Welles.” V quirks one quizzical eyebrow at Jackie, but he just scoops their plates up and bustles off toward the kitchen. She stands as well and moves to retrieve her jacket and slide her arms into it, to slip into her shoes. After a moment of silence, busying herself with her pockets V turns around and reiterates, “I mean it. I’ll always bring him back to you.” The sentiment catches her right in the chest, and V knows she means it, and why.

Guadalupe’s expression is sad, and suddenly V can see every year she has spent on Earth, all the sorrows she’s lived through. She looks tired, and V averts her eyes from this vulnerability as Guadalupe sighs, “I hope that’s so.” 

Jackie pops back in from the kitchen, and shoots a glance between the two women.

“You ready V?” He places one hand on his mother’s shoulder and squeezes, and she pats it with her free hand and smiles, a genuinely warm smile. A minor apology, from them both.

“Yeah. Thanks again for dinner!” V raises a hand in farewell as Jackie ushers her out the door, murmuring for her to hurry up already, low enough that only she can hear him.

“I swear chica, you would spend an hour saying goodbye if I didn’t practically shove you out the door,” Jackie’s voice is a mixture of fondness and exasperation as they step out and into the yard. This is decidedly true, and V lets it pass without comment. Her immediate question she also keeps, not wanting to wheedle Jackie about how quickly he wanted them to leave once the conversation got too emotional.

Without a working car (V tries not to think of her baby, sitting in a junkyard), wherever they’re going, they’ll have to go on foot or public transit. V lets Jackie lead the way, but has to ask the second question on her mind:

“So what’s this gig?” It’s a little chilly today, and V shoves her hands into her jacket pockets as they walk. At least having to take two steps for every one of Jackie’s is likely to warm her up quickly.

“Ah, it’s a 'procurement'. Some corpo has something Padre wants, so we’re gonna get it. Here, I’ll slide you the deets.” He pulls out his phone, and a moment later the forwarded messages show up on her own. She scans them over briefly.

“So, we gotta get this briefcase, ideally without giving him a chance to ID us or zeroing anyone?”

“Yeah, pretty much, and there’s a golden opportunity tonight. The target, he has a weakness for BDs, of the uh… more private variety.” He goes silent, probably not at the thought of the BDs, but because they’re passing a group of teenagers milling around a vehicle. They’re probably trying to break in, paying Jackie and V no mind, but prying ears easily turn into attempts to cash in intel.

V looks at Jackie, who looks away from the kids, frowning, and she follows his lead to ignore them. She has to breathe slow out of her nose, fists clenched; messing with someone’s ride is a high offense, a direspect of high order, worth a fist to the face. But in Night City, some fights just aren’t worth it, a lesson V is learning all too well.

As soon as they’re out of earshot, Jackie picks back up: “So we’re going to this BD bar, Lizzie’s. Kind of a weird place-- you order the BD right from the performer. There’s a dancer there I know--” V’s eyebrows quirk upwards, and Jackie’s voice goes up a pitch or to, “AND she’s a favorite of this guy, so while he’s jacked in we can nab the case he’s got--”

“Wait, why’s he takin’ the merch to a BD club?” 

“I didn’t ask. Probably making an exchange nearby? Just trust the intel is good -- oh, cross here, quick!” Jackie grabs V’s arm and they dash across the road just before the signal changes. Then, it’s up a flight of stairs to the NCART station.

“Lizzie’s, far enough for the metro?” She's a little out of breath from the sudden flight of stairs (at Jackie's pace, no less). V has only been on the train once so far and it was an unpleasant experience, between the crowding and the stench. When she had asked if every metro car smelled like stale urine, Jackie had assured her that was one of the better options.

“Yeah, it’s in Kabuki.” They climb the stairs and find a place on the platform to wait. A scroll overheard assures them the next one will be in less than 10 minutes. Based on her first experience, V guesses it will be closer to 20.

“That’s… Watson? We’re in Heywood,” V traces the mental map in her head, frowning in concentration, “and then North is City Center, and Watson is across the river.”

“Mmhmm. And Kabuki is on the east side of Watson, ‘long that river--”

“Across from Japantown.”

“You’re picking it up pretty fast,” Jackie smiles down at her, crosses his arms, and leans up against the advertisement they’ve stopped in front of.

“Special talent,” V says drily, but without malice. “I can learn a new place in a week flat.”

Jackie chortles, “You’re getting rusty then, it’s been  _ six _ already!” It's actually been almost three.

“Night City is not  _ a _ place,” is her retort, though she can tell from the way his eyes crinkle up at the corners that he’s teasing her. She finds herself drinking in that expression, but then looks away.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“No.” V bites her inner lip, and seizes upon an idea that is only slightly worse than being honest: “Hang on.”

V fumbles her phone out of her jacket and makes a show of calling in the suspected vandalism-slash-theft they passed earlier. This easily wastes fifteen minutes, even though the other side of the line is fully automated. She can see Jackie getting a little impatient with her, not just for the timing but for bothering in the first place. Nobody is going to come out to Heywood for a smash and grab. She hangs up and smiles, a little too sweetly. Well, it makes her feel better, regardless. If only she could call in someone a little more trustworthy than the police...

“V.” Jackie draws out the single syllable of her name, just this side of stern.

“Mm?” She keeps her eyes forward but leans back against the advertisement next to him; it is remarkable that they both fit against it, but then the only thing in Night City bigger than the advertisements is the buildings, and sometimes barely.

“We good?”

“Yea I’m just… distracted.” Her eyes flick sideways to Jackie’s face; she can’t read his full expression with the collar of his jacket blocking the view, even with his head turned toward her.

“Well, don’t be distracted for the job, yeah?”

“Never am.”

“I noticed. Best partner I ever had, from minute one.” His tone is lighter now, easier.

V relaxes, turns to look back at Jackie. “It’s just--” her eyes flicker up to the scrawl displaying the next train time, notes it has gone down to 2 minutes. Plenty of time to put her foot in her mouth, “I’m not used to getting so close to… well, you’re a … static and-- and trusting a city merc is a bad idea.” And look, she managed to fit both of them in there.

Jackie looks puzzled for a moment, and then his whole face brightens, “That’s what this is about?  _ Chica _ .” He laughs, uncrosses his arms to thump her jovially on the arm. “We work well together, and you’re staying at my Ma’s, only makes sense we’d get… close?” 

There’s a brief pause and he continues, still smiling, “‘Sides, pretty sure you’re a ‘city merc’ now too, eh? Lookin’ the part too, all shiny and gold.” V freezes as Jackie lifts a hand to her face, casually even, thumb caressing the corner of her mouth. A thousand jolts of lightning light up her nerves where he touches her. She tries not to gape, feeling her face go hot, but--  _ thank God _ \-- the train they’ve been waiting for arrives and saves her.

Jackie drops his hand and tilts his head toward the train car as it rumbles to a stop, raising his eyebrows but still wearing a self-assured smile. He weaves past the folks getting off of the car and V hurries close behind, eyes fixed solidly on his upper back. They barely pause to flick eddies for their fare at the terminal. Jackie finds a spot easy, the other folks on the train getting out of his way, and raises his arms to grip the overhead bar rather than one of the hand-holds dangling from it. V slips into the empty space in front of him, trying to make as much space as possible between herself and the other passengers. She reaches up as well, holding the bar in the space between Jackie’s hands. For her, it's a good stretch; for Jackie, he almost has to slouch.

This involves getting fairly close to Jackie, close enough that she can absolutely smell him.  _ Don’t get distracted, he says!  _ V rolls her eyes, and ends up making eye contact with Jackie in the process. Again, they lock eyes.  _ Too late, then. _

“Hey, Jack. Pretty crowded tonight.” She says it softer than she means to, forces a laugh.

“Hey, V.” He says it soft back, and his lips twitch. She keeps her head tilted up toward his. The train lurches forward, and so would V if she wasn’t holding herself so carefully NOT against his body. They both sway slightly as the metro rockets northward. V swallows, suddenly hyper-aware that she has onions on the breath.  _ Well, so does Jackie.  _ Not _ that it matters!  _ The protest sounds feeble even in her head, the corner of her mouth still tingling with the memory of his touch. Somehow, V feels almost as intoxicated as she did the night before, though she is totally sober.

They stare at each other some more for a long time. It isn’t the worst habit V can think of developing in Night City, considering. She presses her lips together, wetting them, and lets her mouth fall slightly open. The city streaks by outside the window--V can see the neon lights reflecting rapid fire across Jackie’s face, catching his cyberware, highlighting the small strip of gold and the freckles across the bridge of his nose.

She thinks of putting up a hand against his chest, ostensibly to stabilize herself, and then doesn’t. His fingers flex around the railing above them, then his hands slide into hers. They rock back and forth with the train. People jostle past them as they pass stop after stop. Someone down the car is yelling something, but V’s ears are full with the sound of her own breathing, and Jackie’s.

“We’re up next.” Jackie finally says, and V whispers, “Fuck,” in reply.

Something in both of them releases, they move apart, laughing strange, shaky laughs. Jackie lets go of the rail and grab’s V by the wrist, pushing through the crowd and toward the doors. They’re ready to disembark as soon as the train stops and the doors slide open, spilling out with the crowd onto the platform. 

Jackie doesn’t let go of her until they’re back at street level. She can see the enormous neon sign spelling out  _ Lizzie’s _ across the street and an almost too-clear concrete courtyard.

“Ok, so details. We get in the back and--”

“Wait, Jackie.” V smiles, tilting her head up at him, “Not complaining 'zactly, but -- How long are we gonna keep playing this game?”

“Game? V, I…” to her surprise, he frowns, a distinctly hurt expression, but then he shakes his head, “I don’t mean to be playin’ one--”

“So what are you doing?” she crosses her arms tightly, lips pursing together in her own frown.

“That’s--It’s complicated? Fuck, this is not how I usually-- you deserve-- !” Jackie looks around, as if hoping to discover the right thing to say hiding on one of the massive advertisements along the walls. Finding nothing, he sighs, drops his arms completely to his sides, and looks at V seriously. “The actual person I want to introduce you to. Her name is Misty, mentioned her once but.. been bein’ a gonk, tryin’ not to talk about her too much so you wouldn’t see. She’s my girl, goin’ on a while now.” Jackie’s face actually lights up in a goofy smile here, almost to himself, as V’s eyebrows furrow together.

“Complicated? Fucked, maybe, flirting with someone just to introduce ‘em to your output. I’m just, what, some fun, tide you over til you get to go back to your  _ real gi- _ ” A lump starts to form in her throat, but she sneers rather than letting tears form.

“V! Woah, woah, hang on.” Jackie swears rapid-fire in Spanish, something V doesn’t catch or maybe just doesn’t know. He raises his hands in a defensive position, grimacing, “It’s like I said, I needed to have some conversations, and I’ve been being stupid. Misty and me, we’re, uh...not, not exc--” 

Jackie starts to go red all over, shifting from foot to foot. “Listen, Corporat’s not gonna stay in that BD forever. Then, I promise, I will fill you in. Let’s do this first  _ por favor _ ?” one corner of his mouth twitches upward, then the other, his eyebrows turn upward-his best cajoling grin. She wants to hate herself for being so easily mollified, but mostly it feels good. There must be some path from here that leads to something she's actually willing to be; to be honest with herself, she both wants to and  _ does  _ trust Jackie.

V turns her head away, breathes in deep, holds it, and exhales. “Fine. Let’s do this.” She drops her arms and squares her shoulders back. Time to get her head in the game. This will just need to go in a compartment with everyone else. “Lead the way, Jack.”

Jackie sighs a relieved-sounding sigh, and heads towards the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha ok well I MIGHT have worked myself up a little. :sweats:
> 
> [Edited in a bit to make it make more sense that 1) it hasn't been a ridiculously short amount of time 2) why Jackie hasn't been gabbing V's ears off about Misty]


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After they make their getaway, Jackie wonders about a second dinner, and some other things.

An hour later, V and Jackie are feet to the pavement, putting as much distance between themselves and the club as possible. Demonstrating fairly good instinct for the city’s infrastructure despite her lack of personal knowledge, V leads them through twists and turns and -- at one point, right down into a gutter, where they have to be careful to avoid the ankle-deep puddles, and back up again, scrambling up the embankment, breathless.

Then they’re clambering up a set of stairs, straight through a small market, and down another set onto an adjacent street. Blocks later, V practically skids around a corner into an alley, and quickly ducks behind a dumpster. A too-long moment later Jackie comes crashing into the alley as well; when he doesn’t immediately see V he keeps going, and she has to leap out to catch him and try to pull him into hiding with her.

Jackie’s mass being what it is, this is much easier said than done, and there’s a moment of wild flailing before he seems to realize she is not, in fact, an assailant.

“V!” he hisses, and she tugs on his arm again, ears straining for the sounds of pursuit. They squeeze into a tiny space behind the dumpster, an alcove the dumpster is supposed to occupy but has clearly never been returned to after trash collection.

There’s an ancient mattress and some assorted belongings in the alcove, but the occupant isn’t around. So they squat together, and wait. Long minutes pass with the briefcase pressed against V’s hammering chest, and her hand clutching the arm of Jackie’s coat. Her eyes and attention are fixed toward the street, although she can’t see anything but the peeling painted concrete of the alcove they’re in. The sounds of the street filter into the alley, sounding normal, missing the rhythm of runners. Perhaps they’d managed to give their tail the slip, finally.

Jackie’s counting under his breath, a habit of his V is starting to pick up on. The longer they wait, the slower he counts, and V finds her own breathing matching. In - “doscientos noventa y siete” - out. The minutes pass.

Eventually, V’s grip loosens on his arm, and she turns her head. Jackie’s eyes are gleaming and his cheeks are red with exertion, but the counting has calmed them both considerably. He tilts back out of the squat to sit, splay-legged, on the mattress, and breathes out, ragged, half-laughing. V follows suit, feeling the stress drain out of her body, although she is still hugging the briefcase to her chest.

“Shit, Jackie. Doesn’t it ever go smooth?” 

“Coulda been worse. He went down pretty easy. Wasn’t expectin’ the hustle though.”

“Oh, fuck--your hand!” V lets go of the briefcase, letting it sit in her lap, leans across Jackie to pull his right hand forward.

“Don’t fuss, it’s fine, guy was basically made of cotton candy,” he smiles though, open lipped, and lets her look it over. In this moment, the touch between them is practical, simple. The adrenaline of the chase is wearing off, leaving V feeling light and clear-headed, and less prone to so-called distraction.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Thought he’d be a little less aware of his surroundings.”

“Probably hadn’t gotten to the good part yet. Shoulda waited till he got hard-ow!” V drops Jackie’s hand and swats backward playfully into his chest before pulling herself back to sit, relaxed, in her own personal space. “What, too crude for your genteel ears?”

“Ah, fuck off!” She shoulder checks him, but gently, as they both laugh. After a moment, V nods her head forwards toward the briefcase. “Guess we better go deliver this?” 

“Guess we better.” Jackie’s smile softens, a closed lip smile that goes all the way up to his eyes.. “Gotta take the train back to Heywood to meet up with Padre, but listen-- I’m starvin’. You wanna grab a quick bite?”

V shakes her head, but not to say no, “Maybe if you didn’t wolf down dinner every night--”

He’s already hauling himself to his feet, “Hey, takes a lot of calories to maintain! C’mon. I know a spot nearby, indoor seating and everything.” Clambering to her feet, V follows him out.

“Indoors? You mean we won’t be sitting around on the street, freezin’ our asses off, advertising whatever it is we’ve got here?” She holds the briefcase up to emphasize the point.

“That’s right.” Jackie is leading her out the far end of the alley. Before they cross out into the main street again, he looks again, then waves her forward. “Best pancakes in town.”

“Pancakes? S’practically 10’o’clock. Anyway, Jackie, we’re still broke from last night, remember?”

“Perfect time for ‘em! Trust me. Plus the owner loves me, he’ll let me put them on a tab.” He has the sense to look a little sheepish about running a tab a diner, at least. “Hey, hold that thing like it belongs to you, eh V?” He nods toward the briefcase, which she is still clinging to. V lets her arm drop, holding it so it is between her body and Jackie’s.

The sound of Night City swallows any conversation they may have wanted to have; cars speeding by, their drivers honking at any and everything. The mechanical sound of the city’s millions of fans, running even in what is technically late winter. The hollar of street vendors, joytoys, people trying to have conversations over the din of it all. V tries to focus on one sound at a time, to break them down, to learn the specific fingerprint of Kabuki as she has the neighborhoods of Heywood. 

The accents, the music, even the language on the endlessly broadcast PSA are different, but some of it is the quality of the sound, too. Things are louder here, echoing off of higher buildings, bouncing off the on and off ramps; there are endlessly more ads playing non-stop, as well.

V breathes in, tries to talk over everything else without shouting. “Sometime, let me take you back out to the Badlands, Jackie. When I’ve got a car. Let you hear what silence is.”

“Hm?” She frowns, starts to repeat herself, and realizes he’s joking. Once again, V shoulder-checks Jackie, laughing.

“Seriously, though. How often have you really been outside the city?”

“Mm… job with you?”

“That’s it?!” Her eyes go wide with surprise.

“Night City has everything, why leave? Or so I thought.” He uses a hand on her lower back, actually touching this time, to steer V gently across the street without interrupting the flow of the conversation. “Turns out the Badlands were holdin’ out on something special.”

V’s heart misses a beat, but her reply is a light-hearted jab, despite a slight crack in her voice betraying her, “What, cactus?”

“V.” It’s an admonishment and maybe an answer, but delivered with the mildest of groans so that she can’t quite tell for sure.

“Anyway. I really mean it. Just drive out some time, case of beers, some foldin’ chairs, sit outside the noise for once. ‘Course, it’s not all peace out there. Would love to show you a good Nomad party someti--” V swallows, puffs out her cheeks. “Nevermind.”

Jackie’s face asks a thousand questions, but he doesn’t voice any of them and V doesn’t answer, doesn’t speak, not for a long time. The silence carries all the way into Little China and a small, old fashioned diner.

It’s bright inside, much more cheerful than she feels right now. Jackie introduces her to Tom, promising to come back the next day to pay, but they haven’t eaten all day and other complete bullshit. The man behind the counter appears to know it’s bullshit, but one look at V and something about her expression elicits a kindly smile, and he beckons them to sit down.

So now they’re in a booth, sitting across from each other, still not talking. V is chewing the inside of her lip. It is, if anything, louder here, at least five different conflicting broadcasts playing within earshot. V feels a pang, missing the quiet open-air, and sighs. Meanwhile, Jackie’s leg is practically vibrating, as it often does when feeling a bit on edge, his eyes on the nearby television. _How can he even hear?_ thinks V, missing the more important question: what is he so nervous for?

An hour later, V and Jackie are feet to the pavement, putting as much distance between themselves and the club as possible. Demonstrating fairly good instinct for the city’s infrastructure despite her lack of personal knowledge, V leads them through twists and turns and -- at one point, right down into a gutter, where they have to be careful to avoid the ankle-deep puddles, and back up again, scrambling up the embankment, breathless.

Then they’re clambering up a set of stairs, straight through a small market, and down another set onto an adjacent street. Blocks later, V practically skids around a corner into an alley, and quickly ducks behind a dumpster. A too-long moment later Jackie comes crashing into the alley as well; when he doesn’t immediately see V he keeps going, and she has to leap out to catch him and try to pull him into hiding with her.

Jackie’s mass being what it is, this is much easier said than done, and there’s a moment of wild flailing before he seems to realize she is not, in fact, an assailant.

“V!” he hisses, and she tugs on his arm again, ears straining for the sounds of pursuit. They squeeze into a tiny space behind the dumpster, an alcove the dumpster is supposed to occupy but that it has clearly never been returned to after trash collection.

There’s an ancient mattress and some assorted belongings in the alcove, but the occupant isn’t around. So they squat together, and wait. Long minutes pass with the briefcase pressed against V’s hammering chest, and her hand clutching the arm of Jackie’s coat. Her eyes and attention are fixed toward the street, although she can’t see anything but the peeling painted concrete of the alcove they’re in. The sounds of the street filter into the alley, the rush of cards, of ads, of music, but missing the rhythm of runners. Perhaps they’d managed to give their tail the slip, finally.

Jackie’s counting under his breath, a habit of his V is starting to pick up on. The longer they wait, the slower he counts, and V finds her own breathing matching. In - “doscientos noventa y siete” - out. The minutes pass.

Eventually, V’s grip loosens on his arm, and she turns her head toward him. Jackie’s eyes are gleaming and his cheeks are red with exertion, but the counting has calmed them both considerably. He tilts back out of the squat to sit, splay-legged, on the mattress, and breathes out, ragged, half-laughing. V follows suit, feeling the stress drain out of her body, although she is still hugging the briefcase to her chest.

“Shit, Jackie. Doesn’t it ever go smooth?” 

“Coulda been worse. He went down pretty easy. Wasn’t expectin’ the hustle though.”

“Oh, fuck--your hand!” V lets go of the briefcase, letting it sit in her lap, leans across Jackie to pull his right hand forward.

“Don’t fuss, it’s fine, guy was basically made of cotton candy,” he smiles though, open lipped, and lets her look it over. In this moment, the touch between them is practical, simple. The adrenaline of the chase is wearing off, leaving V feeling light and clear-headed, and less prone to so-called distraction.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Thought he’d be a little less aware of his surroundings.”

“Probably hadn’t gotten to the good part yet. Shoulda waited till he got hard-ow!” V drops Jackie’s hand and swats backward playfully into his chest before pulling herself back to sit, relaxed, in her own personal space. “What, too crude for your genteel ears?”

“Ah, fuck off!” She shoulder checks him, but gently, as they both laugh. After a moment, V nods her head forwards toward the briefcase. “Guess we better go deliver this?” 

“Guess we better.” Jackie’s smile softens, a closed lip smile that goes all the way up to his eyes.. “Gotta take the train back to Heywood to meet up with Padre, but listen-- I’m starvin’. You wanna grab a quick bite?”

V shakes her head, but not to say no, “Maybe if you didn’t wolf down dinner every night--”

He’s already hauling himself to his feet, “Hey, takes a lot of calories to maintain! C’mon. I know a spot nearby, indoor seating and everything.” Clambering to her feet, V follows him out.

“Indoors? You mean we won’t be sitting around on the street, freezin’ our asses off, advertising whatever it is we’ve got here?” She holds the briefcase up to emphasize the point.

“That’s right.” Jackie is leading her out the far end of the alley. Before they cross out into the main street again, he looks again, then waves her forward. “Best pancakes in town.”

“Pancakes? S’practically 10’o’clock. Anyway, Jackie, we’re still broke from last night, remember?”

“Perfect time for ‘em! Trust me. Plus the owner loves me, he’ll let me put them on a tab.” He has the sense to look a little sheepish about running a tab at a diner, at least. “Hey, hold that thing like it belongs to you, eh V?” He nods toward the briefcase, which she is still clinging to. V lets her arm drop, holding it so it is between her body and Jackie’s.

The sound of Night City swallows any conversation they may have wanted to have; cars speeding by, their drivers honking at any and everything. The mechanical sound of the city’s millions of fans, running even in what is technically late winter. The hollar of street vendors, joytoys, people trying to have conversations over the din of it all. V tries to focus on one sound at a time, to break them down, to learn the specific fingerprint of Kabuki as she has the neighborhoods of Heywood. 

The accents, the music, even the language on the endlessly broadcast PSA are different, but some of it is the quality of the sound, too. Things are louder here, echoing off of higher buildings, bouncing off the on and off ramps; there are endlessly more ads playing non-stop, as well.

V breathes in, tries to talk over everything else without shouting. “Sometime, let me take you back out to the Badlands, Jackie. When I’ve got a car. Let you hear what silence is.”

“Hm?” She frowns, starts to repeat herself, and realizes he’s joking. Once again, V shoulder-checks Jackie, laughing.

“Seriously, though. How often have you really been outside the city?”

“Mm… job with you?”

“That’s it?!” Her eyes go wide with surprise.

“Night City has everything, why leave? Or so I thought.” He uses a hand on her lower back, actually touching this time, to steer V gently across the street without interrupting the flow of the conversation. “Turns out the Badlands were holdin’ out on something special.”

V’s heart misses a beat, but her reply is a light-hearted jab, despite a slight crack in her voice betraying her, “What, cactus?”

“V.” It’s an admonishment and maybe an answer, but delivered with the mildest of groans so that she can’t quite tell for sure.

“Anyway. I really mean it. Just drive out some time, case of beers, some foldin’ chairs, sit outside the noise for once. ‘Course, it’s not all peace out there. Would love to show you a good Nomad party someti--” V swallows, puffs out her cheeks. “Nevermind.”

Jackie’s face asks a thousand questions, but he doesn’t voice any of them and V doesn’t answer, doesn’t speak, not for a long time. The silence carries all the way into Little China and a small, old fashioned diner.

It’s bright inside, much more cheerful than she feels right now. Jackie introduces her to Tom, promising to come back the next day to pay, but they haven’t eaten all day and other complete bullshit. The man behind the counter appears to know it’s bullshit, but one look at V and something about her expression elicits a kindly smile, and he beckons them to sit down.

So now they’re in a booth, sitting across from each other, still not talking. V is chewing the inside of her lip. It is, if anything, louder here, at least five different conflicting broadcasts playing within earshot. V feels a pang, missing the quiet open-air, and sighs. Meanwhile, Jackie’s leg is practically vibrating, as it often does when feeling a bit on edge, his eyes on the nearby television.  _ How can he even hear? _ thinks V, missing the more important question: what is he so nervous for?

“They aband--  _ betrayed  _ me.”

The bouncing stops, Jackie’s eyes snap to hers, all the questions from before still in his eyes.

“I--sorry. I _ really  _ don’t want to talk about it. Lotta… bad memories.” She looks down at her hands on the table, sees they are trembling, and breathes out to steady herself. 

“Listen, V-- ain’t gonna lie. I’m not great at this kind of thing.” Her eyes flicker to his, then back down. Jackie seems to hesitate before reaching out to cover her hands, tentatively, with one of his own. She tenses, and then forces herself to relax. 

Jackie’s voice is lower but rough, as he adds, “So, I’m just gonna say it.” Even so he pauses, exhales. “Maybe… not here, though?” 

Someone clears their throat and then both turn. There is Tom, holding out two plates with a slightly pointed look. Jackie springs backwards as if suddenly electrified, replacing his expression with a broad, sheepish grin.

Tom doesn’t really react, just gestures with the plates. “Sorry to interrupt, but uh… dinner’s up. On the house-”

“ _ No, no amigo  _ , said I’d pay you back, meant it--”

Tom raises his eyebrows and tilts his head gently toward V, who looks away, face burning. She murmurs, “Thanks.” to the window, drawing her own hands back into her lap as Tom sets the plates down without another word. Her eyes fix on digital cherry blossoms, which are filtering down across the courtyard from a fake tree, but she can hear Jackie shifting in his seat, both the seat and his coat creaking in mild protest.

“Listen V, let’s just have some pancakes, ok?” She can hear the sound of silverware clanking and looks over to see Jackie cutting the stack on his plate into neat squares. Something about it makes her heart squeeze.

V inhales, forces a smile that manages to make her feel a little better, regardless. “You mind if I eat mine like a full grown adult and not a toddler though?” 

Jackie has speared two entire columns and is stuffing them into his mouth already, but manages to make a sarcastic face back and her anyway. Once he swallows: “However you want, don’t let me stop you.” V gives a mock bow with her shoulders and makes a point of cutting a large piece of pancake away from the rest.

Somehow, they bounce from heavy to lighthearted without skipping a beat, every time.This thought rides shotgun to another squeeze deep in her chest, and combined with the frankly oversized bite of pancake she is attempting, V actually chokes. She bends her face hurriedly into her elbow, sputtering, but manages to swallow.

“Woah, woah. You ok?”

Her eyes are watering, but she gasps out, “Yep. Fine. They’re just… really good pancakes. Went down the wrong pipe, s’all.”  _ What a fucking stupid reaction to--  _ She doesn’t finish the thought, in favor of not choking again.

“So that’s how an adult eats? Nah, think I’ll pass.” V rolls her eyes, but smiles, and they attend to their food for a moment. 

Moments pass, then Jackie ventures, carefully, a little too casual, “Tell me a good memory, then.”

V puts the fork down and looks at him, contemplating the question as best she can while avoiding most memories. For a moment worry flashes across his face, he draws into himself.

“So, ‘bout my favorite scar. “ V lifts her left hand, palm up, and Jackie’s shoulders relax. He watches her with interest, eating all the while. On the ball of her thumb is a semi-circle of scar tissue. “One summer, family’s got work on a big farm, so we’re not moving around, practically statics. Leaves too much time to get to know the local townies, and I’m just head-over-heels for this girl. Her name’s Stella, she’s all legs and  _ oh  _ , her  _ style  _ , always dressed to a T. She had these big, dark eyes, coulda looked into them forever. She liked to tell me how amazing my name is, how it meant I’d succeed in life-”

“Your name?” His voice is a little  _ too  _ eager, and it brings V out of her reverie.

“Eat your pancakes,  _ Jaquito  _ .” V shakes her fork at him, and continues, “So anyway, one day, I’m slacking off, out back behind a barn, with Stella, messin’ around, y’know. And I hear my mom calling, while I am knuckles deep-”

“V!”

“Mom’s calling for me, and I’m-- well I’m trying to hurry up, don’t like to leave the job half done or the trigger half-pulled.”

Jackie shoves another forkful of pancake into his mouth, not breaking eye contact. A mischievous grin spreads across V’s face.

“Well it was pretty effective. Stella starts moanin’ to wake the dead, so I put my hand over her mouth, right, which she  _ really  _ liked ‘cause she comes so hard--well.” V brings her teeth together with a clack and Jackie hisses inward in response.

“That’s quite the ah, story,  _ chica _ .”

“Ten stitches and a month of antibiotics. Lucky it wasn’t worse -- turns out human mouths are  _ filthy _ .” A pause, as she regards her own thumb. “You’ll have to tell me about one of your scars sometime. Or one of your tats.” V waves her fork again in his direction, then looks down at her partially eaten pancakes, still smiling. The hurt is still there, will probably never go away, but she can bear it a little better in this moment. She tries for a more reasonable bite of pancake this time. They really  _ are _ good, so reminiscent of real butter flavor that makes V wistful for childhood, without the pang.

Their pancakes are finished in short order and with a re-improved mood. V thanks Tom profusely (to his face this time) and has to be ushered out of the building by Jackie, briefcase in tow.

“C’mon…” he leads her through the adjacent marketplace rather than back onto the street, where everyone seems to have a greeting for him. Unusual for Jackie, he is relatively tight lipped, waving or nodding, but only sparing a brief  _ hola  _ or two.

“How come you know everyone around here, Jack? It’s a little outside your normal territory.” V tries to keep close behind him, least of all because she has to raise her voice.

“Well, my ripperdoc choom works just through there, the one I box with? And--” they cross under the overpass with the fake tree, and V spies a neat neon sign down the block.  _ Chakra realignment? _

“Misty’s Esoterica?  _ Your  _ Misty?”

“Yeah.”

“Hang on. I’m not letting you off the hook about that just ‘cause she’s here, you know.”

Jackie stops walking, turns to face V full on. He looks down, breathes out, and then up at the sky--or more accurately, the buildings they’re passing between. “I know, V. Shoulda asked though. You up for this?”

“This gonna ruin my good mood?”

“I am really hoping no.”

“Okay then. Tell me about Misty. Preferably  _ before  _ introductions?” 

“Wh--oh! Yeah, of course. V, wasn’t gonna--Here--hang on.” Jackie shoots a glance up and down the back street they’re on, then turns toward a door on their left. “Keep a look out, ey?” But before V can really respond to this, he’s fiddling with the lock, and the door slides open with a hiss. “C’mon V. Quick-like!”

She follows him into the building; it’s a dimly lit back hallway, with a set of stairs leading up and around the corner. There’s a puddle of something, but from the smell, it’s just a water leak. At least, V is fairly certain it’s nothing foul.

“Oh, real classy place,” V can’t help commenting, amused.

“Hold your horses.” Jacke heads up the stairs, gesturing with his head for her to follow. At the top, there’s a door that seems to lead further into the building, and another that Jackie makes short work of opening.

“You’re good at that.”

“Naw. These locks are just really bad. I’ll show you some time.” Jackie turns, beckons V to go through. She does, back out into the street, but on the overpass where the digital tree is being projected. Sounds are muffled up here, the noise of the market largely pointed into the market. It’s easier to hear the ATV’s high overhead, harder to hear the constant moaning of the MILF ad. With the tree, and the nearby holo-lanterns that hang across the street, it’s almost pretty.

“Not bad.” She wanders over to the tree, sets the briefcase down, and runs her hands through the petals, watching the way her hands interrupt the projection, studying the lines, distracting herself from the knot trying to form in her stomach.

Jackie comes up along beside her, quiet for a moment. She can feel his eyes on her, and turns to see his face wearing an expression she’s caught a few times. Soft, pleased. He looks up again. “Me an’ Misty, we’re both Heywood kids. Ran in different circles, never really met. When we did though, hit it off like-- well.” Jackie brings his gaze back down, giving V a pointed look, “It was like we had just  _ actually _ known each other our whole lives. ‘fore long, I asked her out, she said yes.” 

Jackie sighs, smiling. “She’s brilliant, and beautiful and… really makes me think about life. About why things are how they are. Listens to me, too. Sees somethin’ in me I didn’t know was there, tells me I’m better than I think.” V listens, biting the inside of her lip, trying to keep her face steady, when what she wants to do is grin back at him, or hug him and tell him how right Misty is. It’s a strange feeling, watching Jackie wax poetic about another woman and wanting to smile about it. He just looks so… happy. “S’been, ah… a little over half a year now.”

He looks at V, eyes serious and intent. She looks back at him, not sure what to say. Finally: “That’s great, Jackie, really. But…?” V uses her hands to indicate herself, expression full of questions.

“But where does… this fit in?” Jackie gestures between them, clarifying the question on V’s mind.

“Right.”

Jackie swallows, looks down at his feet, and when he looks back at V, his expression is almost shy. Despite everything, her heart gives another squeeze.  _ Please let there be something good here. _

“Uh… Misty’s better at explain’--”

“So, tell me what she’d say.” This advice seems to help; Jackie thinks for a moment, and then nods.

“She’d say… uh-- ‘Jackie’s got a heart too big not to share’ and ‘The idea that there is one perfect person out there for everyone is--’” his eyebrows furrow together briefly. “What’s the word for  _ outdated  _ , only fancier? Doesn’t matter. Outdated. Not for everyone, anyway. That we should be free to feel what we’re going to feel and revel in life’s pleasures with the short time we get.” 

The sheepish smile returns. “Real special girl, Misty. Like I said, brilliant. But ah… meant to be explain’ how I feel about  _ you  _ \--”

V barely dares to breathe, listening to this uncharacteristic outpouring. A feeling of giddy relief washes over her and leaves her feeling more than a little foolish. In hindsight, it’s the most obvious explanation, but one she’d classify so far into the realm of impossibility that it hadn’t crossed her mind at all before.

“Oh my  _ God  _ , Jackie, you’re  _ poly?  _ ” V actually can’t help it now. Laughter bubbles out from her, her shoulders shaking with mirth. For his part, Jackie’s lips press together, a mixture of confusion and relief casting over his features.

“Maybe? I… don’t know what that means, V.” She is still laughing, hard enough that she has to squat down, doubled over. The confusion starts to win out on his face. Jackie squats in front of her, catches V by the shoulders. “V stop laughing for fucks sake.You lost your mind all of a sudden?”

She tries to stop laughing, she does, but looking up at Jackie, at his big, dumb, beautiful face, she can’t help it. Between gasps, V manages to stammer out “Yes, yes-- I’m ok. I’m good! I’m fine.” A deep breath, she closes her eyes for a minute to center herself and takes one last shuddering laugh.

When she opens her eyes, Jackie’s confusion has turned to concern, and maybe a little hurt. “Gotta say, I didn’t expect you to  _ laugh  _ at me.”

“Oh-- Jackie. Jackie you complete gonkbrain, I’m not laughing at you. I’m  _ relieved.  _ ” She reaches over to caress his cheek, feeling the sudden freedom to do so. He closes his eyes against the touch. V’s eyes are still dancing, mirthful, but also something more. When Jackie’s eyes open again, she smiles so brightly at him it hurts her cheeks.

“So, we’re good?” He seems to be holding his breath, eyes darting rapid-fire back and forth across her face, unsure.

“We’re more than good, Jackie Welles.” She uses her thumb to trace the line of cyberware across his cheek, marvling in the feel of him. The space between them is static charged; her skin actually tingles as V focuses on Jackie’s face. She can see the skin of his forearms prickling into gooseflesh, and his hands, still on her shoulders, flex.

They hold like that for a moment, and then he whispers, voice husky, “C’mere and let me kiss you.” By means of answering, V drops to her knees so she can get closer to him without falling over, so that she is caught between his own bent legs. He tilts his head down, and closes the remaining gap between them.

Their lips catch like fire, and the sensation of touch shudders through V. She moves to link her hands behind his head as his hands slide down her back, under her jacket, and up again.

Tenderness gives way to hunger, and their bodies lean into each other. Jackie shifts, lowering to his knees as well without breaking the kiss, his hands fumbling forward, tugging at her shirt to untuck it.

She pulls back from their kiss, eyes heavy lidded, lips parted, to give him room to slide a hand under her shirt. She gasps as he presses up under her bra as well, thumb ghosting over her nipple.

“Like that?” He lifts her shirt and the cup of her bra out of the way while bending his torso to take the exposed breast into his mouth. She moans involuntarily, leaning back as far as she can to give him access, propping herself up with her arms, as Jackie’s tongue traces around her stiffening nipple. The feeling hits her there, and like lightning-turned-fire between her legs simultaneously.

“Mm-hmm.”

Her eyes half focus on the digital petals in their lazy spiral downward, mind centered on the way Jackie’s mouth feels against her. She can tell she’s already wet, marvels in how badly she must want him to be getting off from a single touch. He bites her lightly, and she sucks in a sharp hiss of air as she curves back toward him. There are voices in the street below, but they may as well be a million miles away. Jackie chuckles and she kisses the top of his head, eager for any part of him to touch.

When Jackie comes backs up for a kiss, she leans forward into him, pushing him backward. They spend a moment in a rearrangement of limbs, ending with Jackie’s back against the concrete and V straddling one of his thighs. 

V considers for a half second whether they’re visible, but the thought is only fleeting-- she comes down for another ravenous kiss, pressing down and forward with her hips at the same time. “Ay--” he starts, then groans as V thrusts, riding his leg and rubbing the leg trapped between his thighs into him together. She can feel him getting hard, and smiles a wicked smile against his mouth.

“Ey  _ papi  _ , is that for me?” If it comes out a little awkward to her own ears, Jackie doesn’t seem to agree. His makes a sound, low in his throat, as his hands tighten around her arms for a moment. then move to her waist, where he helps direct the motion of her hips against him. 

V moves so that is straddling him completely, positions herself so she can feel his erection pressing against her through the fabric of his jeans, and they both grunt as their bodies align. 

With her face against his nick, she cannot see his face, but then most of her attention is focused elsewhere, the way the head of his cock and her clit are aligned. Pleasure shoots through V at the friction of their bodies and the feel of the fabric pressing into her body, and she lets out a series of high gasps directly into Jackie’s ear. She spares one second of annoyance at being so very dressed.

“Yeah, all for you. Think you can handle it?” His hands tighten on her hips as she raises slightly, enough to see him. The look on his face is downright blissful, his mouth slightly open, trying to smile a cocky smile but bright-eyed, concentrating.

V presses her forehead against his, moving more aggressively, starting to sweat. She focuses on the pleasure of the movement, thankful as she speeds up for the softer fabric of her panties acting as a buffer between jeans and body. Jackie’s hips buck upward, into hers. “I. Don’t have. To  _ think  _ . Anything. I just get. It. Done.’”

The sound he makes, almost a whimper, a just long enough pause in their thrusting to --she swears, feel their bodies  _ twitching _ together, sends her trembling over the edge She resumes ther movement of her hips with his, doesn’t slow down, just lets out a long sound, half between gasp and groan, grinding up and down as she reveals in the feeling.

“Shit V, I’m gonna-- “ his teeth grit. She doesn’t stop, tightening her hands around his shoulders.V tilts her head, to moan into his ear:

“Good.”

“ _ Dios  _ \--” is all Jackie manages to hiss out before his face and body seem to tighten, his hips speed up against hers, and then with a powerful grunt, slow. One more thrust… two...they collapse together, sweaty and shivering, fully clothed.

V starts to laugh again, against Jackie’s neck, a little self-conscious now. He wraps one arm around her, breathing out a shaky breath.

“‘Bout what you expected?” Her voice is a murmur, as she traces the line of his neck with her finger, breathing in the smell of him freely. Right now, it’s mostly sweat that he smells of, but it’s good. She thrills at the idea of bringing him to completion completely dressed.

“Not at all. Just thought we’d have a conversation, an’ if I was real lucky, maybe the promise of a kiss in my future..”

“Couldn’t wait; gave a little more’n that. Glad, though?”

His arm tightens around her. “Very. But next time, wanna see more of you. It was a real nice sneak peak, though.” V is suddenly very aware that he bra is still in disarray, one cup pushed up, tit hanging out, pressing into Jackie’s tank top.

“Hmm,” V pretends to deliberate, “I’ll see what can be arranged.”

“I bet you will.”

They lay for a moment, listening to each other’s breathing steady.

“Wanna get cleaned off?”

Jackie shifts, and V rolls off of him. She reaches up under her shirt to fix her bra, smirking.

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Uh… Misty’s is right there but--”

“S’that gonna be too awkward for you?”

“Maybe a little, but I’ll live. You?”

“I’m curious to meet her.”

“She’s gonna know.”

“Thought it wasn’t a problem.”

He heaves himself up in a crunch, surveys his pants. Well, the outside is clean, anyway. “It’s not. Just embarrassing, haven’t jizzed in my jeans since I was a teenager.” He winces, slightly, though whether at the feeling or the crude statement, V can’t be sure.

“Me neither.” V can’t help but grin at him, and he grins back.  _ Too late for him to be shy about it.  _ She stands, wiping her hands off on the front of her jeans, as Jackie hauls himself up.

“Well, no time like the present, right  _ chica  _ ?” 

A legion of butterflies unleashes inside of V’s stomach, but she reaches out to take Jackie’s hand, lets the feeling of their interlocking fingers steady her. 

“Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha well I'm going to go bury myself under a mountain!!


	5. Chapter 5

“Misty… ?” Jackie ducks into the building first; their hands unclasp as V hesitates. Her stomach clenches, but she forces herself to try to relax by letting out a long breath. Out on the street, she is still V-with-Jackie, something new and exciting but undefined. Inside, she is--what?  _ Jackie’s new output? Partner? Friend with benefits? Idiot who believes a convenient story?  _ With a shake of her head at the uncharitable line of thought, straightens her shoulders, and trails in after him.

The store is small, dark; lit only by some moody neon fixtures and an array of candles. There’s a haze in the air, and the heady smell of a dozen different kinds of incense floods her nostrils. It’s the same smell Jackie sometimes carries, and the association goes a long way toward quieting her anxiety.  _ It’s fine, this isn’t gonna end up being a misunderstanding… it’s fine. _

A woman, pale with an exploding halo of shaggy bleached hair and an equally oversized sweater, turns from what she was doing -- lighting another one of the candles, apparently. “Jackie, there you are! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming after all, so I thought I’d close up and maybe spend some time with myself. I read a really interesting meditation technique earlier.” her voice has a strange quality, bright but soft all around the edges, and she is smiling moony-eyed at Jackie as the words spill out of her. 

V arranges her face in what she hopes is a friendly ‘nice to meet you’ kind of smile, though she can feel her face is flushed. Well,  _ still _ flushed, technically, the aftermath of her recent acivities still very much on her mind, and body. All she hopes is that in the gloom of the candle lit store, and considering her own skin tone, it won’t be too obvious.  _ Hi, I’m V, five minutes ago your boyfriend had my tit in his mouth, hope that’s cool, nice place you have here. _

A lopsided grin spread across Jackie’s face as if involuntarily, “Sorry, sorry. We got a little… distracted on the way over.” V suppresses a heavy snort, but just barely, and Misty looks between the two, the edges of her dark lips twitching slightly upward. Jackie rubs the back of his neck, chuckling. “Anyway. This is V. Uhm, V-- Misty.” His other hand gestures between them.

Misty’s all brilliantly green eyes and raised, curious-but-concerned eyebrows. This look settles on V, regarding her for a moment. The seconds feel like an awkward eternity to V, who’s smile is just faltering as Misty’s expression gives way to a sweet smile of her own.  _ Guess I pass inspection? _

“Hello, V. Jackie’s told me a bit about you.” Misty takes a half step forward, past Jackie, holding out a hand in greeting.

V laughs, a short staccato sound, as she also moves forward to accept the handshake. “Oh, I’m  _ real  _ curious to know what he had to say,” She flickers her gaze to Jackie, who is smiling half-nervous half-reassuring, and only barely fidgeting. “Jackie, you wanna go take care of yourself...?””  _ No use beating around the bush about it, right? _

Jackie’s entire neck flushes, and he mutters “Yeah-- I do-- ‘cuse me, Misty. Gotta use the facilities.” He appears to think better of the shamed routine, because he tosses “Don’t wanna come back and hear you tellin’ any embarrassing stories, ok?” in a lighthearted voice over his shoulder on his way toward the back.

This leaves Misty and V alone. Neither of them says anything for a moment and then:

“Listen, I don’t want--” “It really was only  _ good _ \--”

“Sorry. You go.”

“Why don’t we sit down?” Misty gestures toward an alcove that holds more candles and two high-armed slightly reclined white chairs. She settles down, dainty, onto the farther one, legs together, perched just on the edge of the cushion. “Tell me about yourself, V.”

V drops into the other chair, feeling a bit awkward about whether to sit forward like Misty or back against the reclining portion, and the fact that the chair doesn’t swivel, so she can’t turn to face Misty properly. She ends up in an array of limbs, almost not on the chair at all, legs spread and leaning forward so her arms are between them, head turned toward Misty.

“I thought Jack was just giving me shit when he told me everyone shares their part of their soul first thing,” V lets out a longer, but softer chuckle as Misty shakes her head, also starting to smile in a more relaxed way.

“That’s the Heywood way. People are only strangers if you let them be.”

“Findin’ that out more’n’more. Growing up…strangers were an opportunity for trouble, mostly. Hard habit to break, when most folks consider you a criminal just because you don’t have a permanent address.”

Misty reaches out to put a hand on V’s knee, her concerned expression returning. “I’m sorry. Jackie told me you left your clan.”

“We-- we parted ways, few months back. Everything just kind of… crumbled.” V fixes her gaze past Misty, on a RIOT poster fixed to the wall, on the sparkle of the figure’s outfit, “This is a little too much of my soul for our first meeting, if I’m bein’ honest.”

Misty withdraws her hand, but not with urgency or offense, “That’s alright. I’ve got a feeling we’ll have lots of time to get to know each other. You’re part of Jackie’s life now; that means you’re part of mine, too.”

V looks back at Misty, a little surprised, “Didn’t realize that’s the arrangement--” 

Misty shakes her head, starting to laugh, a bubbly, open laugh. “No, I don’t mean in the same way.” Misty’s laughter quiets, and she fixes a very frank look on V, “He did tell you, right-- I mean, how he feels, how we work?” Her mouth falls open a little, possibly thinking she’d spoken out of turn?

“Said you’re poly. Well, didn’t actually say that, hadn’t heard the word, but more or less. An’... more kinda showed me how he feels, y’know?” V wills herself to make and maintain eye contact.

“Guess we’re not much for labels. He and I, we’re together, but it doesn’t mean we share partners. We’re free to see other people. It’s… usually better when everyone is friends. Besides, anyone Jackie loves,” Misty glides on, tactfully ignoring V’s sputter, “is someone worth knowing.”

“Right.” V lets out a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding, “Similar’s not uncommon in my clan.”  _ former clan, _ “Gotta admit I’m surprised, though. Thought in the city it’d be looked at as backwards… or some kind of cult thing.”

“It’s different for everyone. I’ve had some people react that way. Other folks, they’d look at it as pure selfishness, as ‘cheating with permission’ or consider it a sign someone can’t commit,” Misty’s smile flickers for the barest moment, “Most just don’t care. Lots stranger in Night City if outrage is what they’re after. Ah--here he is.” She rises in a fluid motion from her chair, casual and easy. V more or less hauls herself upward, torso first.

“You ladies getting along alright without me?” Jackie comes back in from the back, moving more comfortably than he was before. His eyes flicker between the two, and V nods. Still, she can’t help but be relieved that Jackie is here to be the common ground between them.

“Mhmm. Misty was splainin’ some more to me. You’re right Jack, she is better at it.” She rocks forward on her heels, a shit-eating grin crossing her face, and tilts her head toward his lower half, “All cleaned up?”

_ “Yes _ , thank you V.” Jackie’s reply is flat, an edge of sarcasm coloring the words. Misty settles her body against a shelf, between the two, but not  _ between  _ them, V notes. Slightly back. Carefully not blocking their view of each other. Still, she holds a question open on her face, which Jackie doesn’t seem to need to hear; he shakes his head in a fond way, “Don’t worry ‘bout it Misty. V is just givin’ me shit bout a mess  _ she _ made.”

Now it’s V’s turn to sputter protest, as if she didn’t invite the conversation to turn this way. A half-second later, all three of them are laughing. Everything clicks to place inside of V, and the feeling she feels most, past the odd mix of embarrassment, nerves, and pride, is of finally being exactly where she belongs.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sharing of drinks, and other secrets.

“And then he says to me ‘Oops, I forgot,’ all coy about the credchip like maybe he was hoping I would put up bribe money myself.”

“Well, I still say we shoulda kept ‘em, since he dicked us over anyway.”

“Jackie, assume the eddies are _always_ tracked.” She’s told him this before; the back and forth is well worn, comfortable, theirs. He rolls his eyes, but without apparent annoyance. They relocated to the storage room at some point, and have been working through a pack of cheap beer. The trio is arranged in a triangle, just close enough to each other that they can touch if they reach out, but each on their own box, crate --or in Jackie’s case, a step stool. 

“Oh, Jackie, you _didn’t._ ” Misty shakes her head, fondness evident in every syllable despite the admonishment.

He purses his lips, thoughtful, then waves his free hand forward in a dismissive motion and sinks back on his stool to take a long pull of beer.

Misty directs her attention to V now, “Oh V, you should have heard him when he got back from that job--”

Jackie sputters, “Oy, Misty! You gonna make me look like a huge dork-- Ah!!” he holds up a finger at V without looking at her, and she swallows back the natural retort with a chuckle.

Misty wrinkles her nose at him over a much smaller sip of her own drink, while V looks between them, eyebrows up. “Oh hush. He comes in, his energy is just -- radiant.” Her voice drops a bit, but she doesn’t mimic Jackie’s accent “‘Misty this _girl_ , tough as nails, played no games -- didn’t even flinch when I told her I wasn’t gonna pay’--gave him an earful for that, by the way--”

“Much appreciated. And _deserved!_ Go on, wanna hear _all_ about how impressed he was.” V flashes her teeth at Jackie, who sighs into his beer.

“Well, you know. Maybe I should leave Jackie _some_ compliments to tell you himself.”

“Aww. Least tell me--” V addresses Misty but looks straight at Jackie, eyes twinkling, setting down her drink down and leaning forward “he told you how hot I looked.” She hadn’t, not really. It had been a long couple of days doing nothing but driving and sleeping in her car, but with the faint buzzing of her head, this seems like the natural thing to tease him over. Jackie takes another long pull from his bottle.

“If I think back, the words he used were--”

“Got a body like she’s carved out of fuckin’ marble, real honed, perfect porportions?” Jackie interjects, seeming to give in to the fact that this is happening. He makes an hourglass shape with his hands that isn’t _remotely_ accurate; the beer sloshes gently in its bottle. “Naw, I kept my opinions to myself… mostly. Did tell Misty how you were wearin’ that crop top that shows just enough of you to get a guy curious. How you have all these crazy tattoos around your hips, kept me thinkin’ the whole time about how far they go--”

“Jackie Welles, you did not say that to your _girlfriend!_ ” Even so, V is pleased. She makes a note to tease him with this later. Whenever they get a chance to be alone.

“He did, if you’ll believe it.” Misty smiles at V over the top of her drink

“Yeah, only cause you _like_ to hear--”

V is delighted to discover that Misty blushes a fantastic and bright red, as the other woman drops her drink to the ground to give Jackie a simply scandalized face, one that could curdle milk.

“Ok, ok! You brought it up!” Jackie scooches his stool back playfully, out of reach. His expression is open, warm, pleased--like he can’t quite believe he’s getting to flirt with two women at the same time. 

This prompts V to wonder, aloud, “I’m not the first person Jackie’s brought home, am I?”

“You are. In both meanings,” offers Misty, as Jackie seems to find his toes very interesting all of a sudden.

“So are you sure-- this is ok?”

Misty laughs, and her laughter is like a bell, not unkind at all. It is real easy for V to see what has Jackie over the moon about her. The thought makes V feel special, too, even with a seed of doubt trying to plant itself. “Absolutely, V. This was the agreement from the get go. I had another partner too, until recently. Actually was already seeing him when Jackie asked me out.”

Jackie shifts in his seat, watching Misty’s face, which has lost some of its joviality. _Ah, I bet it didn’t end well-- what does, though?_ V tosses this thought on the pile of things to ignore.

“Don’t mean to bring up a sore subject. I just don’t know how I’d feel being a trial run...” V looks down at her bottle, regret beginning to gnaw at her throat, making it tight.

“Never, _chica._ Listen--” Jackie moves his stool forward, getting in close to V, but giving Misty a brief look. 

Once again, they don’t seem to need words. Misty stands, declares: “I’ll give you two some privacy for a moment.” She squeezes Jackie’s shoulder and retreats from the store room. V watches Misty go, a small frown settling across her face. She feels Jackie’s hand on her cheek, turning her face gently to look at him. His expression is so serious that V can’t help but feel a little somber.

“V… took me six weeks to work up the courage to talk to Misty ‘bout asking you out, ‘cause I’m an idiot but also… wanted to be sure. That it wasn’t a passing thing, just physical. What we have going on here--hell, I can’t pretend to know where it’ll end up, but it’s not _frivolous_ for me, ok? I’m not just _testing the waters_ with you.” 

“Sorry. Don’t mean to be insecure. S ’embarrassing.” She tries to look away, but the gentle pressure of his hand literally holds her gaze steady.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, V. _Fuck_ , I was so scared of tonight. Spent all day a bundle of nerves after talkin’ to Misty.”

“What? _Scared?_ ” V feels the smirk threatening to break through her self doubt, holds it back from her face but not from her tone.

“ _Terrified_ . It’s easy _wanting_ , but having, and like this? Sheesh, was sure I’d pissed you off so much earlier I was gonna lose my chance, you’d want to leave completely.”

V reaches up, puts her hand over the one he’s still holding her face with, and chuckles low in her throat “You’ll have to try a little harder’n that to lose me.. It’s… it’s not just physical with me, either.” She leans forward, enough to rub her nose gently against his, holds there against him for a second, their eyes too close to focus, but looking anyway. When she settles back agains the crate she is using, their hands drop, and then tangle in the space between them, momentarily.

“Hey Jack?”

“Yeah, V?”

“It’s… Victory. _Don’t._ Say _anything._ ”

Both of Jackie’s eyebrows shoot for the moon and his mouth falls open. “C’mon, noth--”

“Go get Misty. _Do not!_ Not a _word!_ ” V’s face is heating up again, running through the laundry list of comments she’s heard about her birthright. _Victory_.

Jackie gives her hand a squeeze before standing and striding back out into the main room of the building. V can hear their voices, soft and muted, and she holds her breath. _Why tell him right now??_ She actually covers her face with her hands, heart beating faster than it had with any of the other confessions.

She’s not left alone long to muddle over the complications of her first name. When Misty and Jackie slip back in, they are smiling, and V can’t help but inspect their faces for laughter, finding only charm.

“Thanks… and sorry ‘bout that,” V begins, but Misty waves her off.

“No worries V. It’s important to communicate, and for everyone to have their needed space.That was the problem before, with Benjamin. A sweet man, but in the end, he didn’t know how to handle feeling left out while I was falling for someone new, and didn’t tell me how he felt until it was too late, when he needed to lay blame...” Misty crouches and takes V’s hands in hers. “Please _always_ be as honest as you were today.”

V finds herself taken aback. Jackie had called V straigtforward the night before, but Misty-- she’s so _open_. So earnest. V forces herself not to look away, “Of--A’course.” 

“Shit! We gonna stay all moody I’m gonna need somethin’ stronger,” Jackie’s face creases into a puzzled looking frown, at odds with his amused tone of voice, and he begins patting at his jacket front. The sound of his phone’s ringtone hits V’s ears a half-second later, as he pulls it from his pocket. His frown turns into a grimace, and he mouths “ _Padre_.” at V before striding out of the storage room to answer.

V’s stomach drops as Misty lets go of her hands, clearly confused.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” V hisses quietly, looking around wildly for where she stashed the briefcase, “Totally forgot. Misty-that case I had? _Shit_ , what time is it?” V can hear Jackie apologizing in the other room, promising to be there soon.

“Little past one thirty. V, what is it?”

“ _One thirty_ ? Oh fuck. We were on a _job_.”

“A job? Jackie just said you were dropping in after eating.” Misty’s head is on swivel now too, her lips pressing together. She sweeps the storage room, then takes a few steps back out toward the store. “Maybe you put it down over in the relaxation area?” 

“The where?” V is twisted around, checking the spaces around the crate she’s sitting on. It can’t be lost, but that doesn’t mean it’s _found_ , either. She knows they had it when they got in-- _right?_

“ _¡V, Vámonos! .”_ Jackie reappears at the door, case lofted in one hand, “Told Padre we had to lay low for a minute, but we better scram. He doesn’t sound that pleased ‘bout bein’ up so late--”

V is on her feet in moments, sparing a glance around the storage room and the disarray they’ve left it in.

“Don’t worry about it. The mess’ll keep.” Misty smiles as Jackie hurries a kiss into her cheek, and murmurs something V can’t hear much of but seems to serve as a goodbye.

“Are you far-- Jackie, can we take Misty home, on the way?”

“Don’t worry V, I’m a big girl, could get myself home either way, but my apartment is just upstairs.” 

Jackie makes eye contact with V and jerks his head toward the back door before heading that way himself.

“I--ok, okay Jack, I’m _coming,_ don’t tug. Glad to have met you, Misty, truly. Thanks for the--” V waves a hand around, the words not coming to her in the moment.

“It was nice to finally meet you too, V. Go on, then ‘fore Jackie busts a vein in his forehead. Goodnight. Good luck!”

Jackie does not exactly yank V out into the Night City air, but his movements are urgent, suddenly impatient. After the cozy, incense-laden air of Misty’s shop, the night air is stark, a blast against her exposed skin. V pulls her jacket around her body as Jackie all but jogs toward the nearest main street. “Shit, V, we just _forgot_ \--”

“To finish the job? Yeah, guess we _did_ get a bit distracted after all, “ She hopes the smile comes through in her tone, but he isn’t really watching her, barely listening. “C’mon, let's get a cab, it’ll be much faster.” V thinks, again, of her car, pushed past the breaking point, gone forever.

“Yeah, with what eddies?” Jackie is really hustling, and V can barely keep up, much less talk. She reaches out, grabs his arm with both hands, pulling him to a stop.

“Slow down a sec, ok? Got a little saved. Notice you’ve been picking up the tab lately?” 

“Ah-- _fine._ Okay. Thanks.” Jackie seems to relax as V dials up a cab to come get them. Once she’s off the phone, he admonishes: “Really shoulda paid for dinner then.”

“Felt weird after that sob story you told, and Tom tryin’ to be nice. I’ll make it right.”

“Shoulda bought drinks once or twice, too.” Jackie is bouncing up and down with the need to hurry, but the words come out with a sulk.

“What, and turn down your generosity?” V smiles again, and this time Jackie sees her, catches the smile and returns it with one of his own.

“Mmhmm. Couldn’t’a been generous once or twice?” the thought is cut off by the honk of their cab. It’s nothing remotely fancy, human driver and all, with a hand that seems permanently attached to the horn.

“Honestly? It’s kind of hot the way you didn’t even ask me to.“ V starts to cross the street toward the cab, laughing and shaking her head, “Don’t worry Jackie, I’ll get you back.”

Jackie’s expression softens all in a go as he follows after her. The honking of the cab somehow manages to intensify, “Forget it. You already did, _mi victoria._ ” The way he pronounces it-- not just her name, but like the noun, like a concept he is claiming, makes V literally skip a beat--she stops with her hand on the taxi door handle.

The driver doesn’t lay off the horn, as though they’re not literally right at the side door, even as Jackie spins V around and presses her into the side of the car, pinning her down with his hips and his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these times, they will get through A Whole conversation where nobody suddenly feels bad. Probably.


End file.
